The trouble with sharing a table with James Potter—and even occasionally asking each other questions about the essay—was that this inevitably meant sharing a table with other people. James was quite popular, and it didn't help that he was friendly to nearly everyone he met. As students began to finish dinner, some made their way to the library, including fellow Gryffindors Fred Weasley and Alayna Finnegan, along with her younger brother Ryan who was a Hufflepuff and a year below the others.
Delilah watched them all conversing for a few moments with a bit of envy; they were always so excited to speak with each other, faces lighting up. Socialization often felt like more of a chore for her if she wasn't in the right mood. And trying to finish an essay was certainly not the right mood. Nevertheless, she managed to tune them out, as she'd been doing for the past five years when the common room got a little too rowdy. Which was often. At least if she'd been sorted into Ravenclaw she'd live in a much quieter tower.
But too much silence was deafening. Too much silence made Delilah feel as if she was crawling out of her skin.
"Nah, I don't think we have to worry about Ravenclaw too much. Chang is apparently planning to focus more on studying than actually captaining his team."
Delilah glanced up at Fred. "How do you even know that?"
He turned to her with a sly grin that she felt like almost belonged in nightmares. "I hear things."
She rolled her blue-grey eyes. "You eavesdrop, you mean?"
"What an accusation, Miss Willows!" he exclaimed. She snorted before glancing around to see if he was about to get kicked out of the library for being too loud. Alas, it appeared as if he'd gotten away with it again.
Delilah knew all about how Fred came from an entire family of troublemakers. James, too, for that matter. She wasn't sure if it was a Weasley or a Potter trait, given that practically everyone in the castle seemed to have genes from at least one of the families. There were enough of them to make anyone else feel like an outsider.
"Don't act like I've offended you."
He clutched a hand to his chest. "But you have, Miss Willows! Accusing me of lurking throughout the castle, hiding in the shadows! All to overhear sacred Quidditch secrets!" No one could say Fred Weasley didn't have a flair for the dramatic.
"Yes, how dare I accuse you of doing exactly what you did." Delilah tried to use a teasing tone to show she wasn't actually angry, but had no idea whether she'd succeeded or not.
But James was looking back and forth between the two of them, a small smile growing on his face, so she figured she was probably safe from the wrath of the Weasley-Potter duo. She didn't think the three of them had ever spent an extended amount of time together without others around, but she knew what they got up to in their spare time. How they had any spare time, between classes and Quidditch, Delilah had no idea.
In truth, Delilah usually enjoyed their pranks. Most often they were harmless, and they'd never been targeted at her anyway. Walking into Potions and seeing all the Slytherins sporting neon pink hair that they couldn't get rid of had brightened her day last week considerably.
Not that she would ever tell them that.
"As lovely as this has been," she said, beginning to gather her parchment and books together, "I best get back to the tower before I end up looking guilty by association for whatever prank you two end up doing this week. I like to wait at least a month before I get a detention. Otherwise it just looks sloppy."
Both boys widened their eyes. "When have you ever gotten detention?" James asked incredulously.
She smiled her secret little smile. Most people probably thought she was quite passive—and often, she was. But sometimes her mouth got the better of her. And it could be quite a foul mouth. "Ask McGonagall. I'm sure she'd love to repeat what's gotten me into detention." She spun around on her heel and left the library without another word.
It wasn't until she'd gotten back to the tower and changed into her pajamas that she realized James hadn't uttered another word about her trying out for Quidditch. She couldn't help but be grateful; she didn't need two of them constantly badgering her to join the team. She especially didn't want to admit to Fred Weasley, the school's best beater, that she was terrified of a bludger flying straight towards her face. She wasn't sure if he'd laugh in her face, get offended and think she was doubting his skills, or both.
Vivienne returned to the dormitory just as Delilah was slipping into bed, a dreamy smile on her face. Delilah cocked a probably-too-bushy eyebrow at her. "What's got you so chipper?"
Vivienne hummed, her perfectly smooth dark skin seeming to gleam in the night. "Oh, nothing for you to worry about. Not yet."
Delilah couldn't not worry. Those were foreboding words indeed.
Sincerely sorry that the chapters are so short - I would like them to be longer but as I'm a grad student with a thesis proposal to write, this would never get updated if I only published after I'd written a chapter I think is long enough!